


Haze

by kenzimone



Category: That '70s Show
Genre: Dreams, F/M, Far Future, Possible Character Death, backdated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-09-24
Updated: 2003-09-24
Packaged: 2018-11-09 19:42:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11111505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenzimone/pseuds/kenzimone
Summary: He dreamt of her some times.





	Haze

He dreamt of her some times. An intact dream amongst fragments of others. She seemed more real than them, more vivid. But even then, she was only one dream, one memory, in a sea of a hundred others.

Nameless, sometimes completely faceless, they came to him often. Never lasting long, short glimpses into his youth. And while they did last, they were faded. When they spoke, it was always the same dreary voice, when they smiled the same bland smile.

Sometimes their eyes held no color, simply because he couldn't remember what color they were supposed to have. Their hair would almost always be blonde, soft to the touch, sometimes dark brown, almost black.

One dark haired girl was clearer than the rest, but she was still faded, as if time had washed away all the distinguishing features her face might once have had. What he thought might once have been brown eyes would sometimes stare up at him, hidden behind long black lashes.

But even though their eyes bore no color, and their smiles almost seemed false, deceitful, at times, he still remembered them for what they really had been.

Beautiful girls, young women. Sun kissed skin, flawless as he'd run his fingers over it. Dazzling white smiles, surrounded by glossed lips he'd touched again and again with his own. Blue, brown, green eyes.

He knew their true form, remembered admiring it many times again, but he couldn't _see_ it. Knew their beauty, but couldn't perceive it.

And thus they remained faceless, nameless.

He'd come to accept the fact that he would never be able to see their faces, never be able to properly reconstruct them in his mind. And as they moved around him, their blank faces haunting him, he listened carefully to the jumbled words spoken in their dreary voice, trying to grasp a hold of a single phrase, a single word.

Sometimes he managed to catch one or another.

_Melissa, Krissy,_ New York.

He'd cling to the names, wanting desperately to give these faceless girls, there phantoms, something of their own. To make them seen less like the ghosts they were to him now, and more like the young women he knew they had once been. To know what, _who_ , he was kissing. To know who it was moaning what he realized must be his name, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal the chest of a young man, so much younger than he ever remembered being.

Because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't do just that. There were no comprehensible memories, just fragments taking the shapes of these ghouls as his mind tried to compensate for the blank void stretching across most if not all of his life.

And sometimes, he would dream of her.

She wasn't like the others; she was whole.

He could see her face, trace her features, feel her lean into his touch. And with her piercing blue eyes looking at him, thin lips drawn back into a flawless smile, he would feel the closest to peace he'd felt in a long time.

But it was fleeting, and she'd fade far too soon. White sparkling light engulfing her, swallowing her whole.

Sometimes he would hear her voice, filled with mirth, so unlike the others', float back towards him.

_"I do."_

And sometimes he would see her in the background, far away, whenever the dark haired beauty came to him. Would see her watching him, as the dark one pressed her shapeless lips against his.

And however hard he tried, he couldn't remember her name, who she used to be to him. 'Important,' something inside him screamed. 'So very important. Precious.'

But he couldn't remember.

_Laurie, Pam, Jackie?_

Snapshots racing past him, turning his world blurry, her face sometimes looking down at him from one of the thousands of frames.

Her, standing in front of him, bathed in light, hair as if on fire. It seemed like such a long time ago, his heart hinted to it, and somehow he knew it was true.

_"I do."_

Looking at him expectantly, and he didn't know what to do. So he traced the side of her pale face with his fingers, marveling at her beauty, letting his hands run down her bare arms. Taking one of her hands in his, letting her twirl, watching as her white dress swirled around her ankles. Drowning in her laughter.

Heart skipping a beat as her face, glowing in light, smiled at him. Breath catching as the whisper of a long ago forgotten name brushed against his mind.

_"Donna."_

And her smile widened as she grasped his hands in hers, stepping back into the light, pulling him in with her.


End file.
